


Problem Patient

by jellyjog



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Healer!Obi-Wan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 16:38:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18742909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellyjog/pseuds/jellyjog
Summary: From a tumblr prompt requesting quiobi where Obi-Wan chose to become a healer instead of following the path to become a jedi knight





	Problem Patient

“I should have known who my patient would be the moment padawan Silvan said the word ‘explosion.’” Obi-Wan started grabbing bacta patches as he spoke. Master Jinn was what he liked to refer to as a problem patient and would likely balk at the idea of spending time in a tank. As it was though, the man looked to be in bad shape, not that that was anything new. “I’m starting to think you’re getting injured just as an excuse to see me.”

“Nonsense, Healer Kenobi.” Master Jinn turned his head and smiled at him. “I’m a Jedi Master. I don’t need an excuse to see you.” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and gestured for padawan Silvan to retrieve an antiseptic spray. It would hurt to spray on the burns, and strictly speaking there were less painful ways to go about the process, but in his experience Master Jinn preferred quick and easy solutions, and didn’t like him to tell him in advance if something was going to hurt. Obi-Wan simply made a clucking noise to show his disbelief at the man’s words, and gestured for him to open up for a thermometer before retrieving the antiseptic spray from his padawan helper and beginning to apply it methodically to the various burns and scratches that covered Qui-Gon’s torso. He used the force to gently loosen and remove any dead skin or debris as he went, and the unexpected pain earned him a small jerk and a glare from the Jedi Master. He plastered his face with the most innocent look he could manage and continued his work.

“The antiseptic spray might hurt a bit,” he warned belatedly, a sly smile on his face as he worked his way around to the man’s back. Qui-Gon gave what was probably meant to be a witty response, but it was smothered by the thermometer in his mouth. “What was that? You’re sorry for getting carelessly injured again?” Obi-Wan gave an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, I suppose I forgive you. Now give me my thermometer back.” He reached over the man’s shoulder to grab the instrument and gave a tsk when he saw the reading. “You have a fever, Qui-Gon. Any problems I should know about other than the burns, or should I go ahead and start treating you for infection?”

“I believe it’s just the burns, but I’m not a healer, as you keep reminding me.” Qui-Gon rolled his eyes and Obi-Wan nodded, turning to the side. “Padawan Silvan, remind me what we do for early stage infected burns?” The padawan looked up at him, surprised.

“Well, you already applied the antiseptic, and it has, uh, sulfur in it.” The young woman brought a hand up to her head thoughtfully.

“Silver sulfadiazine,” Obi-Wan corrected, smiling. “And I’ve also been removing dead skin and debris. What do we need to do next?”

“Not leave your burn victim sitting alone and in pain?” Qui-Gon interrupted, sounding equal parts annoyed and amused.

“He makes a good point, padawan Silvan. Pain may be a secondary concern when a patient might face permanent injury or death if we aren’t fast enough, but if I know Master Jinn here, he isn’t in danger of going anywhere anytime soon.” Obi-Wan watched as the padawan before him regarded Master Jinn’s injuries thoughtfully before turning back to him.

“His burns are fairly extensive,” she ventured. “We could put him in a bacta tank?” Obi-Wan smiled at her.

“Correct. Master Jinn here is the perfect candidate for a short dip in a bacta tank.” He threw his hand up to silence his patient as he saw him open his mouth to object. “Qui-Gon here however, hates bacta tanks. It would be kinder of us to treat him some other way. What is the preferable alternative to a tank?” He looked down kindly as he spoke, smiling encouragingly.

“Bacta patches?” The young woman looked pointedly at the pile of bacta patches that Obi-Wan had brought into the room with him and he found himself letting out a chuckle.

“That’s correct, padawan Silvan. I’d like you to help me apply them.” The padawan looked fearfully at Master Jinn and then back to Obi-Wan, and he couldn’t keep the smile from reaching his eyes at her wariness. “Don’t worry, Master Jinn may be a slave driver in your lightsaber classes, but he won’t bite. And remember,” he gave a pointed look to Qui-Gon, who rolled his eyes, “healers have rank in the healing halls. So long as he’s my patient, Master Jinn has to listen to me. Besides, bacta patches are quite soothing. This is an easy task, and you will be serving to relieve his pain. He might actually like you more after this.”

“Don’t listen to him, padawan. I’m going to kick your ass in our next class if you don’t immediately stop doing everything he says.” Obi-Wan laughed jovially and flicked Qui-Gon chastisingly before beginning to apply the bacta. Master Jinn closed his eyes and sighed as he progressed along the man’s torso, and padawan Silvan soon began to help as she realized the positive effect it was having on the patient.

“There will be one step left after this, padawan.” Obi-Wan continued applying the patches as he looked for the girl’s reaction. He could see the gears turning in her head.

“Order him to give me a passing grade in Advanced Lightsaber Forms?” She looked up at Obi-Wan, a self deprecating smile on her face as he chuckled at her answer. “I’m sorry, Healer Kenobi. I can’t remember another step for treating burns.” She picked up a bacta patch and continued helping, waiting patiently for her lesson.

“That’s because you’re training to be a knight, Silvan.” He gave her a sad smile. “Here in the Healing Halls, we prescribe rest, and schedule follow up appointments. Would you grab me my appointment book?” The padawan nodded eagerly, applying the last bacta patch and shuffling off towards his office. He shook his head fondly and turned back to his patient.

“I expect you to actually rest this time.” He walked in front of his patient and crossed his arms. “I know I’m a quite charming human being, but if you come in with another completely avoidable injury just because you refused to follow my instructions, I’m going to have to reconsider that dinner with you.”

“What dinner?” Qui-Gon looked up at him, confused.

“The one I’m asking you to right now.” Obi-Wan smirked, reaching his hand out to grab his appointment book from the returning padawan. “I’d like to see you for a follow-up about these burns in about a ten-day. What does your Primeday schedule look like?”

“Busy in the mornings, but I wrap up my classes at around the sixteenth hour.” He began picking at a bacta patch on his shoulder and Obi-Wan reached out to swat his hand away.

“Very well, I’m putting you down for the nineteenth hour. You should be my final appointment that day unless there’s some sort of catastrophe or I’m called out of the temple. A late dinner afterwards?” Obi-Wan looked up, some of his bravado slipping as he waited for Qui-Gon’s answer.

“I think I can make that work, so long as you don’t expect me to still be _resting_.” Qui-Gon smirked suggestively and Obi-Wan felt his face going crimson. He saw padawan Silvan’s eyes going wide as she looked at him, and he knew he was going to be a subject of temple gossip once again the moment she returned to her friends.

“Well,” Obi-Wan avoided eye contact under the guise of notating the appointment and following date before looking back up. “I think we can make an exception.”


End file.
